Ashes to Ashes
by KnightHunter000
Summary: At the behest of her father, Azrael arrives in Los Angeles with a single purpose: to mend her fractured relationship with her mother; but the tasks God bestows upon his children are never clear-cut and Azrael soon finds herself immersed in the world that Lucifer has built for himself.


**Ashes to Ashes**

Prologue:

The elevator doors to the penthouse dinged softly, announcing the arrival of an uninvited guest. Lucifer pursed his lips, mildly annoyed by the unplanned intrusion (although he wouldn't mind if his visitor turned out to be Detective Decker) and made no move to greet the person, and instead chose to remain on the balcony where he could enjoy his glass of Macallan 55 in peace before the detective called with a new case that needed to be solved.

His ears pricked slightly at the sound of heeled shoes clacking against the floor. _Maze,_ the Fallen Angel concluded as he took another sip, savoring the warmth that trickled down his throat, _should've known._ He sighed quietly. _Probably left one of her knives behind_.

Lucifer placed the lowball glass on the railing and cleared his throat, "Your knives aren't up here, Mazikeen." He turned so he could regard the Demon torturer-turned-bounty-hunter. "I had them put in the basement…" His voice faded and Lucifer was suddenly overcome with a mix of confusion, fear, and an old, simmering anger when he realized that it wasn't Maze that had intruded on his alone time, but another person entirely – one that he hadn't seen in a very long time.

The young woman, no older than perhaps twenty-six and of slightly above-average height, stood in the threshold with a playful smirk spread across her full, pale lips. Unlike her usual attire, she wore a dark, ash-gray v-neck shirt that was covered by a black, double-breasted thigh-length trench coat, navy-blue jeans that complimented her slender form, and a pair of onyx-black, one-inch heeled ankle boots; even her hair, a dark brown that appeared black under the right light, was left to hang freely in gentle, wind-tousled waves past her shoulders and a pair of sunglasses covered her eyes.

Still smirking, the young woman hid her hands in her coat pockets. "Hello, brother."

Lucifer opened his mouth and then closed it, unsure of what to say or _how_ to proceed. _It's not every day that the Angel of Death stops by unannounced,_ he mused, still slightly shaken.

One of Azrael's dark eyebrows lifted questioningly. "Are you going to just stand there like an idiot or are you going to give your favorite sister a hug?" She freed her hands and spread them out, waiting for the embrace.

Lucifer recovered from his shock and then moved his eyes from the Angel to the cloudless sky, his lips pursed in a thin line.

"Very clever, Dad," he growled softly, "but I see what you're trying to d – ."

Azrael scoffed. "Father didn't send me, Lucifer," she muttered as she crossed her arms over her chest. She stepped out onto the terrace and joined her brother by the railing. "I mean, he did ask me to come to Los Angeles – but for an entirely different reason."

Lucifer frowned. "Hmph." He lowered his eyes so that he was staring directly at his little sister, who was gazing out over the Los Angeles Skyline. Again, standing there and looking at Azrael, Lucifer felt a simmering anger flicker to life in his belly. "I find that rather hard to believe, Azrael," he began, his voice calm, dangerous. Azrael turned her head marginally, having sensed the hostility in her brother's voice. "After all, the last time I saw you, you – along with the rest of our brothers and sisters – stood by our father's side and did absolutely _nothing_ as he cast me from Heaven." Lucifer's frown deepened into a fierce scowl and his muddy-brown eyes flashed a blood-chilling crimson as his anger got the better of him. "Out of all of our brothers and sisters, Azrael, I thought I could at least count on _you_ to come to my defense."

The Angel of Death gave no indication that she heard her brother's words, instead she kept her eyes on the city below them.

"But," Lucifer continued, taking his sister's silence as an invitation to continue, "it's nice to know that when push comes to shove, you're just as spineless as some of the souls that I tortured in Hell."

Azrael sighed quietly. "Are you finished?"

"For the moment, yes."

The Angel of Death turned so her back was to the city. "I didn't choose Father over you, Lucifer," she responded, her tone even and calm. She slid her shades down the bridge of her nose to reveal eyes black as the pits of Hell. It took most of Lucifer's willpower to not tense up at the sight of those unholy eyes – eyes that foresaw how someone would die and when they would die. "And you _can_ count on me to come to your defense – _if_ you need defending." She replaced her sunglasses over her eyes.

Lucifer's scowl remained in place. "So, standing next to Dad, shrouded entirely in shadow and watching on in complete silence as he kicked me out of the only home I'd ever known was your way of standing up for me?" He reached for his drink (having all but forgotten about it up until that point), finished it off, and then lifted the empty glass in a mock toast. "Well, you did a _marvelous_ job of it, Azrael, really." He set the lowball on the railing. "Some of your best work yet."

Azrael's lips pursed. "If you had any idea of what Father had originally wanted to do with you once your rebellion was quelled, you'd understand that casting you from the Silver City was an act of _mercy._ "

" _Mercy_?" Lucifer repeated and then laughed. The mere idea that the Almighty had the capacity for mercy was absolutely absurd. "You think that _this_ …" he snarled, his eyes turning scarlet and his once-handsome, angelic features twisting into a wicked monstrosity, "was Father's way of showing me _mercy_?"

The Angel of Death stood tall and strong, unaffected by Lucifer's Devil Face, and muttered, "It could have turned out so much worse, Lucifer."

Lucifer balked, his face and eyes reverting back to normal. "How could it have been worse than forcing me out of Heaven to rule over a kingdom that I didn't even want in the first place?"

Azrael shook her head gently, uncrossed her arms, and approached Lucifer. "Do you truly wish to know?" She lifted a hand, her fingers hovering near Lucifer's cheek and he could almost see what Azrael wished to show him. "Father never forbade me from showing you what he wanted to do but I won't show you unless you really want to know."

Brother and sister locked eyes for what seemed like an eternity, neither one willing to back down, but it was Lucifer who broke the stillness between them.

"If you're not here to take Mum back to Hell, then I want to know why you're here, little sister," Lucifer said. He tilted his head (away from her outstretched hand) thoughtfully as he studied the Angel standing before him. His anger, Lucifer realized, seemed to have disappeared as quickly as it appeared. "You mentioned that Dad sent you here to complete a task. What is it?"

Azrael nodded, respecting her brother's decision, and lowered her hand back to her side. "I was spending some time in the Vatican City, taking some time for myself, when Father approached me from the crowd." She tucked some of her dark hair behind her ear, ignoring her brother's incredulous stare. "He wanted me to come to Los Angeles to – get this – reconcile with our mother."

At that, Lucifer's frown returned although it was more out of confusion than annoyance. "Reconcile with Mum? What for? You were practically attached to her hip growing up."

The Angel of Death exhaled, her eyes set on the floor. "Yes, well…it's been a while since I've seen Mum and even longer since I've actually spoken to her." She lifted her head, her hidden gaze fixated on a random spot in the penthouse. "Father firmly believes that, if I can resolve the issues I have with our mother, it'll help me somehow." She slid her hands into her pockets again. "…I just don't see how it'll benefit me."

"What kind of issues are you talking about, Rae?" Lucifer asked, intrigued by the information. "You and Mum were close, nearly inseparable."

The Angel of Death fell quiet. "Just…issues, Lucifer." She glanced at him. "Nothing that concerns you – at least, not directly I hope."

"Well, if you need someone to talk to, I know of this excellent therapist," Lucifer revealed, a grin spread across his face. "She's well-versed in the whole 'Angels and Demons exist' thing. If anyone can help, it'd be her."

Azrael smiled faintly, not at all surprised that her brother had revealed the existence of Celestial Beings to a mortal. "I'll keep that in mind, thank you."

Lucifer returned the smile and made to take a sip of his whiskey, then stopped when he remembered that he finished it off moments ago.

"Well, if you're going to be staying in Los Angeles for a while, you can stay in Mazikeen's old room if you'd like," he offered.

"Thanks for the offer, Lulu, but I'll have to pass," Azrael replied, her smile returning when she saw how annoyed Lucifer became at the use of her nickname for him. "I have a beach house that – ."

For the second time that day, the elevator chimed lightly, and for the second time that day, Lucifer scowled at the intrusion.

"Bloody hell…" He grabbed his empty glass and gave Azrael an apologetic look. "I'm sorry, Rae," he amended, "usually I don't have guests this early in the day."

Azrael nodded, understanding. "It's fine, Lucifer," she assured him. "I should probably be on my way as it is." She reached into her back pocket to reveal a smartphone. "Do you mind giving me your number in case I need to get a hold of you?" She offered the piece of technology. "…And maybe the number of your therapist. If she's as good as you say she is, then maybe she might be able to help if I can't resolve this problem on my own."

Lucifer's brow furrowed. "Since when do you have a smartphone?" He took the phone and added his contact information along with Dr. Linda's. "And if you do go see Linda, try to break it to her gently about who you are. After all, it's not every day that the Angel of Death makes her presence known."

"I've only upgraded recently," Azrael answered. Lucifer handed the phone back. "Thank you and as for this 'Linda', I'll be sure to break the news carefully. As you said, mortals tend to…panic when they realize that I actually exist."

Lucifer nodded, pleased. "And if I need to get a hold of you?"

Azrael reached into a pocket within her coat and pulled out a folded piece of paper. "Here is my address and my number if you need to contact me."

Lucifer took the paper and committed the address to memory while he added his sister's phone number. "Well," he murmured, pocketing his phone, "since when do you own beachfront property? You never stay in one place long enough to put down any permanent roots."

Azrael smirked. "I have many properties around the world, brother," she explained. "I do need some time to relax and rest my wings once in a while…or entertain our younger sisters when they decide to pay me a visit."

"Right, of course…" He cleared his throat. "And if there's an emergency?"

Even though he couldn't see her eyes, Lucifer had a feeling Azrael just rolled them. "I'm just a prayer away, Lulu, though I don't see an emergency that would require the Angel of Death."

Lucifer smiled warmly, letting that _ridiculous_ nickname pass over his shoulders. "Let me walk you to the elevator, at least."

"And they say chivalry is dead."

He laughed quietly. "You would know when chivalry dies," he whispered conspiratorially as they walked.

Azrael shook her head, giggling under her breath, and followed her brother back into the penthouse.

"And it'll be a sad day when gallantry does finally vanish from this world," she remarked. "I may even shed a tear."

Lucifer grinned. "The An – ."

"There you are!"

Lucifer, irritated by the interruption, looked up and felt his heart begin to race at the sight of the Divine Goddess, who currently inhabited the body of the morally-questionable attorney, Charlotte Richards. "Mum," he said, managing to keep his voice even, "what an unexpected surprise."

"I've been trying to call you for the last half-hour," Charlotte snapped, her blue eyes lit with annoyance. "I think I've finally figured out a way to…" Her eyes eventually found Azrael and she grimaced. "Oh, I didn't realize you had 'company' over."

While Lucifer wasn't one to pray to God for anything, he suddenly found himself hoping for some sort of a divine intervention.

Azrael bristled and clenched her hands into fists, trying to keep her temper in check after having caught the blatant insult. "I'm an old friend of Lucifer's." She forced a smile. "As a matter of fact, I was just leaving," she replied in clipped tones. She glanced at her brother one last time. "Give me a call if you need anything, Lucifer."

"Uh, yes, of course," Lucifer answered, feeling horribly awkward and a little angry at their mother. "Wait, do I need to call a cab for you?"

Azrael shook her head. "No but thanks for the offer."

Without sparing another look towards their mother, Azrael marched towards the elevator, though not before shoulder-checking Charlotte and continuing as if nothing happened.

"Ow…" Charlotte rubbed the sore spot, her eyes set on the closing elevator doors and the fuming young woman. "Well, I guess she needs to work on her people skills," she commented once the doors shut.

Lucifer sighed, exasperated, and stared at his mother with a severe frown. "Perhaps _you_ need to work on making a better first impression, Mum."

Charlotte put her hands on her hips. "What are you talking about?"

Lucifer walked past Charlotte and refilled his glass from the decanter. "You mean to tell me that you didn't recognize that young woman just now?" He took a much-needed drink and relaxed slightly, though his anger didn't ease in the slightest.

"Why would I?" Charlotte wondered aloud as she smoothed out her blazer. "All of these mortals look the same to me." She scoffed, "You'd think your father would've done a better job designing these pathetic flesh-sacks."

"Unbelievable…" He sighed. Lucifer set his glass down, took a step towards his mother, and said in a lowered, displeased voice, "Because, in your moment of blind ignorance, you failed to recognize your own _daughter_." Charlotte gasped and Lucifer paused, letting his words sink in for a moment, and then continued, "Not to mention you basically insinuated that the Angel of Death is a prostitute."

When he took a step back, Lucifer couldn't help but smile triumphantly at the sight of the pale, horrified expression etched on his mother's face.

"Now who needs to work on their people skills?" the Devil remarked.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **Leave a review!**


End file.
